ur sleeping on the couch

we've lost so much more than we think

1. mid november, nine o'clock pm. soft jazz playing from the car radio. youre driving, eyes focused on the empty road. youre wearing an ugly sweater. you turn on the heater, the warmth reaching me- asleep in the backseat. wearing pj's, wrapped in a blanket. the solid hum of the engine, your voice murmuring along with the music, the scent of chinese takeout (dumpling soup & noodles). we're driving back to our house- covered in christmas lights, dark red curtains pulled. 

2. i step into the shower, hair wet already thanks to the pool. i look at you. you open the door, stepping up next to me. i warn you; i take my showers hot. you say you dont mind. i step under the water, breathing out. i hear the bottle of shampoo click closed. i turn, wiping water off my face. you come closer, moving your hands into my hair. i turn back around, facing the tiles- your hands work their way through my hair, carefully curling, gently pulling. moments pass, and we decide to sit down. you wash the shampoo out of my hair, and start with some conditioner. you want me closer to you. i want to move closer to you. we wait longer than we're supposed to, silent, watching each other. i shouldve kissed you then.

3. early march. my old house. all night skype calls- we arent talking, we're asleep. we dont love each other, is what we're said. we both know we're lying. im playing with knives just to get you to worry about me. we're planning trips to paris with out hearts in our throats; swallow feelings like fictional champagne.